It's Okay to Say You've Got a Weak Spot
by JooseBoxx
Summary: Some kid losing it at school sends everything into chaos. Puck has just one priority; get Becky safe. Angst meme prompt, depicts school shooting. Gen.


**Disclaimer: **Not mine. No money. No affiliation.

The scariest thing was probably that they had no idea who the hell this guy was -he was a class mate, at the very least he attended McKinley. But beyond that, Puck couldn't tell what year he was in, what classes he took or if he had even passed in the hallways in the past week. One thing was for sure, Thursday's would never be the same again.

It started in the cafeteria, the very beginning of lunch, and maybe that was a blessing, because it wasn't all that busy. Puck had just arrived, standing in the line to get some strawberry milk that he'd been craving like a bitch since his little sister made her very own this morning. The first thing he heard was the pop of the gun; loud and sudden and sharp. Then it was the screaming, just utter chaos and kids screaming left and right and Puck didn't know what was going on, only that it wasn't good. Kids were running for the exits and there was this one boy by the doors and Puck finally saw the gun in his shaking hand and _fucking hell _that was insane.

He saw Mercedes and Kurt at the far end, getting out the cafeteria with Rachel and Brittany following, Puck knew that Finn and Mike were in the halls, probably with Tina and Artie too. Santana and Sam and Quinn, fuck he had no idea where they were. He just had to get out and hope the others did. The kid with the gun was just firing at random and Puck had to duck down below the tables, spotting a Cheerio uniform that wasn't moving he crawled over, wondering if Santana was having a panic attack or if it was one of the recruits. He didn't expect it to be Becky Jackson. "Beck, hey, c'mere, get down." He took her wrist in a light grip and pulled her to a crouch. "Stay down, okay, just stick close." She was shaking, not good, and Becky wasn't the brightest, everyone knew that, she had this cushion of innocence around her, just like Britt, and crap, Puck was going to have to keep her calm and safe and get her out of there if he ever wanted to look at himself in the mirror again.

Hunkered down, they were able to get behind the serving counter, around the back and into the kitchen. They could get out through the back door, the fire door in the kitchen; they'd get out through there and round the front. "C'mon, we'll get out," he kept Becky's hand in his, keeping low and practically crawling through the kitchen. Except the back door was locked, damn, the door went into lockdown or something and he finally heard the drone of the fire alarm which should mean all the doors were open so what the ever loving fuck was going on? Leaning back against the wall, Becky pressed to his side, Puck heard more screams and the popping of that gun and shit, he didn't even know who the fuck was shooting people.

"I'm scared." He could understand that, he was too. But he couldn't let her see it, he really, really couldn't.

"It's okay, Beck," he wrapped an arm around her shoulders, pulling her against his side and squeezing in what he hoped was comforting, "I'll get us out of here, I'll keep you safe." He couldn't help but feel for her like he did for his little sister; protective and caring and willing to do whatever it took. He knew how to get in and out of this building without a key; he knew all the unprotected areas, all the unwatched points. He knew the make out places, he knew the hook up spots, he knew the weed smoking corners. He had to keep his head on straight and just get Becky out safe and sound. If he didn't, Coach S would make sure his life wasn't worth living, and he'd fucking welcome it.

"Do you trust me?"

"Yes." God, he could just hug her.

"Stay close to me, keep low and we'll make it fine, okay? We'll be great." They push away from the wall, Puck taking Becky's hand in his again and tugging her along behind him while they moved slowly across the floor. He chanced a glance out towards the main area of the cafeteria, spotting a few forms lying out on the floor, not moving and shit, he wasn't going to expose Becky to that. They shifted along the floor to the exit into the school from the kitchen area, Puck opening the door and glancing out first. The hall was a mess -folders and papers and bags and everything just all over the place, Puck was pretty sure he spotted some blood on the walls and floor but there was no avoiding that. "Okay, c'mon, quietly." They couldn't draw attention to themselves, they had to be quiet. God only knew what this guys' problem was, Puck didn't really care, because aimlessly terrorising and _killing _people just wasn't kosher at all.

The hall was clear both ways, Puck shifting along to the corner and slowly standing up and feeling Becky stand behind him, pressing into his back while he kept a tight grip on her hand. He could see the front doors to the school, closed and probably locked, there were lights and movement from outside -flashing blue lights and red lights and undoubtedly that was the police and the fire-service, hopefully the ambulance too. There was no way he was chancing taking Becky down there, no way. He saw the choir room door, closed tight and the shift of movement in the shadows under the bottom of the door -hopefully it was Berry and Hummel and Jones, hopefully they were locked in there and safe and sound. Hopefully Artie got his ass wheeled the hell out of here.

Carefully he tugged Becky along the hall, to the next cross section and stopping when he heard shifting. Footsteps in the hall and-

"There." Becky pointed along the hall, Coach Sylvester's office, door open and inviting and hell, they could get in there, they could lock up in there because fuck, if there was a room that was impenetrable it was that one. But the footsteps, Puck was pretty certain, were not a wandering student like them. His heart thundered in his ears, nothing else was getting in except the thought that this could all go horribly, horribly wrong. He tightened his grip on Becky's hand, taking a breath and turning to her with a nod. He just had to angle it right, just had to move them so that she didn't see anything, so the she was safe.

Turning his body to the side, he pulled Becky so that she was mostly hidden by his form, "When I say," he kept his voice low, "run." He waited until she gave him a nod, her hand tightening in his this time and determination written on her face, even under all the fear he could see in her eyes. Steadying his nerves, Puck took the first step out, keeping Becky covered and moving across the six foot space that felt like miles right then. They barely got half way before Becky's shoe scuffed and squeaked on the floor and the boy -whoever the hell he was- at the end of the hall twisted around with his arm raised. Puck's saving grace, undoubtedly, was the poor aim the boy had. Be it because of his nerves or just because he wasn't very good, the aim was all over the place. "Run." Puck pushed Becky in front of him, following her as quickly as they could go, slamming into Coach Sylvester's office and hitting the floor. Puck shoved the door closed with his foot, twisting up to flick the lock and pulling Becky to crouch underneath it.

They hunkered down again, Puck's breathing heavy and harsh, Becky's quick and almost catching, like she was fighting not to cry and Puck respected the hell out of her right there and then because shit, he was close to breaking the fuck down. The tension nearly choked him. The psycho job out there could follow them, he could just burst in gun blazing and that would be it. And waiting for it, jeez, he never felt more nervous about anything, not even Beth being born. It felt like forever, like he could hear everything going on even though he knew he couldn't.

"Noah," he wasn't actually aware that Becky knew his real name, couldn't figure if she even knew his name at all if he was honest, but that shake in her voice as she said it, made him look up at her, suddenly terrified that she'd been hurt. She seemed okay; he couldn't make out any blotchy red spots that didn't belong on the Cheerio's uniform, although she was still shaking and obviously scared. "You're hurt." What?

Looking to where she was looking, he finally noticed it. His side was bleeding. There was a hole in the front of his shirt and his side was bleeding. Holy hell, he'd been shot. "Fuck." Swearing around Becky Jackson was probably a cardinal sin or some shit like that, but sweet Jewish Jesus, the pain made itself known as he registered that yes, there was a hole in his side. He rolled to the side slightly, leaning back against the door and moving his hand to cover the wound that was now a fire of pain up his ribcage. Holy crap that whole 'all in your mind thing' might be for real, because before he knew about it, the adrenaline of whatever had totally made him oblivious.

"Oh no, no, no."

"Becky, Beck, hey, its okay babe, I'm fine, it's just a flesh wound, really." He was not; it was not, holy crap he was bleeding a lot. He remembered vaguely, something about exit wounds being good and how he didn't have one and that was a bad thing. Crap, that bullet was still inside him, wasn't it? "Hey, d'you know if Coach S keeps like, towels or something in here? Something we can put on my side?" Becky nodded once; almost standing up until Puck grabbed her wrist. "Stay low, remember." She gave a nod before crawling around on the floor, over to the desk and into the bottom drawer before coming back to Puck's side with a blue towel in her hands.

"Use this." She leaned over him to press it to his side and Puck barely contained the hiss of pain at the pressure, but that was a good thing, right? "I'm so sorry, Noah. I got you hurt."

"No, you didn't. He did. Okay, it's not your fault." It probably wasn't. It was probably one of those loser kids that got picked on and snapped and took it out of everyone else. And whatever, he might've had it hard and that was shit for him, but Christ, just looking at Becky, scared and worried and with his blood around her wrist now, that shit just didn't fly. The kid should've pressed fucking charges, not brought a fucking gun to school. He was starting to feel sick though, and just a little bit light headed. Shit. "Becky, check the phone, see if it works." When she went back to the desk and picked it up, Puck knew the answer before she even shook her head, the look on her face told it all. "It's okay, right. Um, just c'mere, we'll wait, they'll come in for us soon."

Becky ended up crying on his shoulder, Puck couldn't think of the words to comfort her, couldn't think of anything to say that would make things all right, he just wrapped his arm around her, keeping his other hand pressed over the towel to his side, and holding her close. He had no clue how long they stayed there like that, his sense of pretty much everything was shot to hell, but Becky cried herself into exhaustion and fell asleep on his shoulder and Puck gave himself the moment to cry a few tears before telling himself to man up.

He was pretty sure they'd find Becky, safe and in one piece if not utterly fine. He wondered if he'd bleed out first though. If he'd see his Ma or Sarah again. If he'd be able to tell Quinn that while he really didn't like her all that much for what she forced him into with giving up Beth, he didn't outright hate her either, something in him would always love her for the daughter that she gave him. If he'd ever get to make things right with Finn or if they'd never be right and this would be it. He wondered how many of his friends were in this same situation, if they made it out or if one of them were lying out in the hallways, dead and gone already. It made his chest fucking hurt to think about it.

Something slammed somewhere and voices started to pick up and Becky perked up beside him, "Noah, listen." He could barely lift his head up; he couldn't raise his hand in time to pull her down when she jumped up to look out through the window. "Noah look, look you were right." She's already opening the door, skittering back slightly when the voices yell out at her.

"Hey, hey, stop." He's almost falling over as he reaches out a hand, but then there's a woman and a man in the office and the chick kneels down beside him while the guy checks over Becky, "She's just scared, she's okay. Right Beck?" He gets a nod while the chick pushes his shoulder to lean him back against the wall again.

"What's your name?" Chick cop is hot, dark hair and green eyes and if Puck could he'd totally give her a smirk and wink but shit, he just wants to sleep.

"Puckerman, Noah Puckerman, she's Becky Jackson. I think she's fine but," he took the hand away from his side, but cop lady pushed the towel back over the wound, even as the squelch of blood already in the towel made his jaw clench. "'m kinda not okay." He kept his voice low, not wanting to freak Becky out now, and cop lady looked over at cop dude with a nod.

"Radio out for paramedics," she stood up and waved two fingers towards the window and Puck almost thought she was flipping someone off, but that shit was unprofessional. "These two are going to get you both out, you're safe now. You did real good." Puck's arms are pulled around the two dudes she signalled in, arms going around his waist while cop lady took Becky by the shoulders and led her out first. Puck hardly had the energy left to put one foot in front of the other and holy crap, Coach S was going to kill him for the bloody stain he left in her office.

The halls are oddly clear of bodies, Puck can't tell if that's because no one got hurt or if because the carnage is somewhere else. He remembers at least three bodies in the cafeteria, wonders if somewhere in the school there's a kid with a gun in his hand and a bullet in his head and then he remembers the fear in Becky's eyes and he can't bring himself to worry about that kid any more. They hit the front doors and there are just swarms of activity. It makes the inside of the school almost silent compared to this. There are sirens and shouting, the noise of talking and screaming from some people, Puck's head lolls to the side while he's nearly dragged down the front steps and hears the shouts for a medic.

"Becky! Becky! Oh, my god, sweetie," it has to be Becky's mom, or like, one of her friends, or a teacher. Someone not Coach Sylvester at least, but Puck's given up on keeping his eyes open at this point.

"Noah, Noah can you hear me? You need to open your eyes, come on Noah, open them." He wishes he could but shit if he can. His Ma'll be at the hospital, she had a shift this afternoon, he'll see her there and then. He'll open his eyes then. "Noah, he's coding! Get the paddles."

He lets the white take over.

#

There's a beep.

It's this stupid, annoying, constant beep.

His alarm clock is more of a blare, so it isn't that.

He wishes he could turn it off, but it's not enough to rouse him completely.

It sort of fades out.

#

It's still there, but it's not just as loud and annoying. Along with the beeping, there's this pain; steady and constant but not agonising. It kind of feels like a pulled muscle. There's also a heavy weight along his side, not where the pain is, mostly just a nice kind of warm pressure. But it moves, so it's probably a person. Too small to be a girl from school, he manages to pry his eyes open to see the top of his sister's head. Yeah, she sometimes did this, but usually it was on movie night when he'd put on his own movie upstairs and she'd sneak in to watch with him and end up falling asleep on him.

Last night wasn't movie night, this is not his room and oh fuck, that's right, he was shot.

"Shit, ow." He tries not to move too much, because Sarah's head is over his chest and his arm is pinned under her, but he has an itch on his nose and that shit needs scratching.

"Baby?" He turns his head, blinking against the bright lights, until he sees his Ma, leaning forward and brushing her hand over his head, "Oh, baby you gave us all a scare." Gave them a scare? Did he, well, probably.

"Ma," his voice feels rough, he's still doing that talking low thing, "can you scratch my nose?" His arm feels heavy, the other one is pinned, the itch is already driving him nuts. She gives a small laugh but runs her nail down the side of his nose until he nods. "Where's Becky?" She's probably okay, definitely okay, right? He at least managed that didn't he? "Everyone else okay?" His Ma gets this pinched look but nods.

"Becky Jackson is fine; she's stopped by with her mom to check on you, you were asleep though. The boy, Martin, he- well." Puck doesn't know who Martin is. Martin could sit next to him in Spanish, or across from him in Chem, or even be on the chess team. Puck wouldn't know him to talk about him. But the boy sure as shit left an impression. "He killed himself." His Ma takes a glance at Sarah, running a hand over Puck's arm and sighing. "He killed three students, one teacher is in critical condition, you were almost in critical condition. But, there were just minor bumps and scrapes in the escape."

Puck feels like a weight just got lifted off his shoulders, and not Sarah. Everyone meant glee, right? His Ma would've mentioned if any of them had been the three students, and he was sorry about them, really, but fuck, he wasn't dead and Becky wasn't dead and his _friends _-because they were his friends, geeks and losers and all- were safe. "I'm so proud of you, scared me half to death, but I'm so proud of you." Her hand just keeps stroking at his arm, "Becky told us that you kept her safe, that you told her you'd be fine, that you protected her. I'm so proud that you stepped up like that," and what the hell else was he gonna do.

"She's like Sarah, Ma. You can't not want to keep her safe." He got a kiss on the forehead anyway.

"I'm going to go get a doctor; you wake up your sister and be prepared for a litany of the last two days." Two days? He must've been really fucking tired if he slept through two fucking days. But he does as he's told and Sarah looks at him like he's some fucking sparkling vampire before telling him that she loves him and is so glad he's okay, even if Ma was crying for hours and she got to stay off school and everyone was worried about him and he was just awesome and stupid all at once.

She stopped talking when the doctor came in. But then the doctor started talking about damaged muscles and healing tissue and three bags of blood and flat lining and Puck felt horrifically tired again.

#

School is closed for a week. The teacher didn't make it and Puck finds out that it was Mrs Anderson, he had her in Freshman year for World History, she was pretty cool and most people liked her. She died on the operating table after a complication from her first surgery. She had a two year old fucking baby.

Martin Rogers, who went postal and took his dads gun to school that day, was a freshman. Puck let Berry comfort him with that little tid-bit of information; Noah hadn't been part of his bullying, Noah had given that shit up before Martin even attended school. It didn't really help when he thought about all the other kids he picked on and tormented and what if one of them had gone crazy on them? But it wasn't even bullying that pushed Martin over the edge, he had a sucky home life and he wasn't getting good grades and he didn't want to join the football team and the girl he liked was dating someone else. One day he just snapped and killed three of his class mates, a teacher and injured seven others. Puck, apparently, was the worst off because he'd been the last the cops got out.

When school reopened, Puck was out of the hospital, he wasn't playing sports for a while, but he was walking and that, he thought, was better than nothing. The halls were all repainted, so the smell of blood was masked with the smell of paint. Puck was actually early, because he wasn't driving until he wasn't on pain meds anymore so his Ma was dropping him off and Rachel had already volunteered her Dad to pick him up with her. He didn't mind so much.

Walking, or limping really, into the building the Monday felt weird. He got as far as his locker and needed a fucking break. Just leaning against it with his head to the door and breathing slowly. "Noah?" He hadn't seen her since they got out of the school, but he'd gotten a card from her and talked to her on the phone once.

"Hey, Beck." He gave her a tired smile, trying his best to not let the pain show. She just grinned back before wrapping her arms around his waist and hugging him, just a little bit close to too tight really. But he wasn't about to say anything. Just wrapping his arms around her back and hugging her too. "How're you doing?"

"I'm okay. I was worried about you."

"C'mon Beck, you know better. Puckzilla can't be put down." He gave her a wink, getting a laugh from her and it made the pain less important. "You wanna walk me to homeroom?" They didn't share the same class, but he'd walk her to hers anyway. She just nodded and slotted her hand into his. He was pretty sure he saw Coach Sylvester at the end of the hall, watching him like a hawk about to snatch up a field mouse and holy crap she might be pissed off about that blood stain right?

He didn't get to find out until right before glee. It was a little strange, because he saw her around the school all day. But Becky usually appeared, and he figured it was that whole 'trauma' thing that made her want to stick close to him or something and she'd get past it eventually, but he wasn't going to rush her cause he didn't mind so much -everyone was careful with Becky, but not in a mean sort of way -except that one memorable time when a former senior said something about her and Coach Sylvester literally tore the guy a new one. Like, not even lying, the guy totally had dick sprain for months.

So Puck makes it to classes, eats lunch with Becky in the car park on the stairs because it'll be a while before either of them go near the cafeteria, walks Becky back to class with Britt on his other side as she takes over and then, after Becky's mom has picked her up for the day, and he gets another thank you from her, Puck heads in to go to glee and is almost caged by Sylvester half way there.

"Um." He's wondering if he should offer a pound of flesh to pay for the carpet, but he's kind of worried she'd accept that offer.

"You know, I always saw you as a brainless, STD chasing, Cheerio impregnating, knuckle head with a throw back hair cut and more charm than sense," okay, that's _almost_ a compliment, he's sure of it, "but now," here it comes, "now I'm almost convinced that there's something else in there." Wait, what?

"Come again?" He's not sure if she's building up the massive tear down that'll leave him weeping on the inside and confused on the outside or if she's just playing evil mind games.

"The graphic reminder in my office notwithstanding, you proved to me that you're not just the foot hopping, skirt chasing, ball throwing, idiot I thought you were." His brain has officially checked out of this conversation and he's not utterly sure where she's going with this or if he should be worried for his continued recovery and/or health. "You showed an ounce of spine and for that I commend you." Something flashes in Coach S right then, and for a second she's Sue Sylvester, human being. "Becky is a very special girl, for a number of reasons, and you kept her safe and calm. And I thank you." See, she does have a heart. "But if you ever bleed on my winner's towel again I will cut out your liver, fry it in olive oil and feed it to homeless people."

She turns on her heel and marches away and Puck is too busy considering whiplash to really wonder if she's serious about the towel. He opts to never find out simply by never bleeding on her towels ever again.


End file.
